


Instructions

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, First Meetings, Jimmy's Bar, M/M, Self-Lubrication, connor is a good robot, hank is a sad lonely bastard but wont admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: When Connor tracks Lieutenant Hank Anderson down at Jimmy's Bar to get him to investigate a homicide case, Hank tells him where he can put his instructions. Unfortunately, Connor doesn't quite understand what he means.





	Instructions

Drowning his sorrows between cases was the only thing that really worked for Hank. It was alcohol that made the nights easier, kept him from thinking thoughts he didn’t want to think. Naturally, Jimmy’s bar was a good place to do that. And since he’d heard rumors he was going to be assigned an android to assist on android-related cases, well, it was a perk that Jimmy’s had a strict policy against androids, too. That way, he wouldn’t have to deal with those emotionless fuckers for the time being. All he’d have to deal with was the sound of chatter around him and reaching the bottom of his glass of whiskey. At a bar like Jimmy’s, the latter was easily remedied.

Then again, that was contingent on the android bastards listening to the rules there. Weren’t they supposed to follow commands? Wasn’t that part of the point of them? Either way, the second Hank saw one walk in, he ducked his head, hiding behind his hair. It was almost instinctual, the way he seemed so certain he was there for him. The last thing he needed was this jackass finding him when he was enjoying a drink, and maybe if he laid low enough, he’d give up. He couldn’t exactly get up and leave. That would be too telling. Instead, he nursed his drink, feeling the android walk past him, scanning every face but his, it seemed.

Hank had a strong urge to drain the glass, but that kind of movement was sure to draw attention. Except apparently it didn’t matter since that fucker was right there next to him regardless.

“Lieutenant Anderson, my name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife. I looked for you at the station but nobody knew where you were. They said you were probably having a drink nearby.”

Hank wasn’t about to justify that with a response.

“I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar.”

Clearly this bastard wasn’t going away. “What do you want?” he asked.

“You were assigned a case early this evening. A homicide, involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.”

Jesus, did he ever shut up? “Well I don’t need any assistance. ‘Specially not from a plastic asshole like you.” Hank wasn’t in the mood for this kind of bullshit. “So, just be a good little robot and get the fuck out of here, would you?” He raised his glass to his lips and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Listen, I think you should stop drinking and come with me,” the android said.  _ Like hell that’s going to happen.  _ “It’ll make life easier for both of us.”

_ For both of us? Yeah, right.  _ Hank drained his glass and didn’t reply. Seemed like anything he said was just going to end with the robot justifying it somehow, trying to convince him.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but I must insist. My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany you.”

“You know where you can stick your instructions?” Hank asked him.

“No, where?” The android cocked his head, dipping to try to get a look at Hank, to read him better. It was as if the dumbass really didn’t know what Hank meant by that.  _ Of course he doesn’t know. Probably isn’t programmed to even understand.  _

Hank snorted at that, the idea Connor really didn’t know what he was saying. “You want me to tell you where you can stick ‘em?” he asked.

“Certainly. Typically, I keep them filed in my memory.”

“Oh, a smartass are we? And here I thought you were all dumbasses,” Hank retorted. “Shove it up your ass, kid.”

“That seems like an unusual instruction storage location. Is that where you store your instructions?” Connor asked. Hank couldn’t be sure if he was smarting off or truly puzzled, but he wanted this fucker out of his face.

“Where I store my—” Hank muttered, standing up and yanking at Connor’s tie. Connor forward easily until they were almost nose-to-nose. “You want to know where I store ‘em?” Hank asked, balling his hand into a fist and pulling it back, but he stopped himself just before hitting him. He wasn’t done with his drink yet.

“Perhaps you can show me where you store them,” Connor pressed.

“You little prick,” Hank snapped, whipping around and grasping Connor by the lapels. He was mad now, mad the fuckin’ robot wouldn’t back down, mad he wouldn’t shut up and drop it, let him drink in peace. “I don’t know what’s stopping me from crushing you like a beer can.” He pushed Connor like that, running with him until Connor was slammed against a wall.

“The cost of repairs if you damage me, Lieutenant. I am worth a small fortune.”

“You stupid fuckin’ androids think you can get sarcastic now, too?  _ ‘Worth a small fortune?’  _ ‘ _ Show me where you store them?’  _ I’ll show you, you little asshole.” Hank grabbed his tie again, dragging Connor to the bathroom and bending him over the sink. “You wanna get smart with me?” His hand wrapped around Connor’s neck, gripping his jaw and twisting Connor’s face to look back at him.

“As an android, I am equipped with a fast processor that allows me to be, as you would say, incredibly smart, Lieutenant.”

“Fuck you,” Hank said, giving a squeeze to Connor’s jaw before letting go. He was just a hunk of metal and parts anyway, so beating him up wasn’t high on Hank’s priority list. He was half-tempted to stalk out of the bathroom and leave, or hell, buy another drink, if only to piss off the android he was being forced to work with.

“Many androids from CyberLife are fitted with pleasure sensors to allow for that,” Connor answered him in his cold, robotic tone. “As the most advanced CyberLife prototype, I am outfitted with all possible features.”

“You actually think I meant— oh, you’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. No, not  _ that  _ kind of ‘fuck you’! Fuck you as in go fuck yourself, you stupid hunk of plastic.”

“I do not see the benefit or possibility of performing intercourse on myself, Lieutenant,” Connor said.

“‘Fast processor,’ my ass,” Hank said, crowding against Connor again. “I’m tellin’ you,” Hank started, but wasn’t sure how to even finish the sentence. Connor’s train of thought? programming? wasn’t a half-bad one, if it would get him to shut up. “You really want me to show you where to put them? Really?” Hank asked him, “because I can promise you, you’re not gonna need a ‘pleasure sensor’ for this one. When I tell you to shove ‘em up your ass, I don’t say it for any kind of pleasure.” His hands gripped Connor’s waist now as he stood behind him, leveling his eyes at Connor’s in the mirror.

“Perhaps resolving some of the tension you are feeling will help you better proceed with your investigation, Lieutenant. I would be happy to be of assistance. It is a fact that some humans may begin to become agitated if they have not had intercourse in a while, hence CyberLife’s extensive line of pleasure-based models. If that is the case—”

“You think I’m not gettin’ any? You see me drunk in a bar and just assume I’m a sad, lonely bastard who needs a fuckin’ android to fuck so I can get happy? Is that what you think of me, you little prick?”

“I am merely suggesting that if it gets us to our homicide investigation faster, I am willing to serve in whatever way you instruct me, Lieutenant.”

“Now you’re willing to do what I say? Not when I wanted you to get the fuck out of my face?” Hank asked, but the thought of someone servicing him anyway he wanted was something, and he was drunk and losing his willpower and besides, it was a quiet, dark restroom, and— Hank stopped finding reasons to protest and tugged Connor’s uniform pants down, reaching between his legs to cup him hard, squeezing. Connor reacted with a soft gasp, as if it was breath-powered and not his own fans whirring at the touch. Connor stared into his eyes in the mirror once he opened them after the soft flutter at the touch.

“Fuck,” Hank muttered to himself. He moved his hand back, grazing between Connor’s legs. “What the hell?” he looked at his hand, the slick substance on it. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I assumed given your touch that you were planning to perform intercourse with me. For your sexual needs and pleasure, I have lubricated myself for this purpose.”

“You lubricated— oh,  _ fuck!” _ Hank couldn’t tell if he was pissed off at how severely Connor had misunderstood their entire interaction so far, wondering how they’d ever work together if Connor took everything that fuckin’ literally, or if he was intrigued by the fact that there was an android in front of him, legs spread, bent over, and pre-lubricated  _ for his sexual needs and pleasure.  _ He didn’t have to like androids to see the benefit here. “You know what? Fine. You want to play like that, I’ll fuck ya, I’ll show you where the fuck I’d put those instructions of yours. Right here in your ass, you little fucker,” Hank growled, undoing his belt and shoving his pants down just enough.

He hadn’t anticipated already being a little hard. Maybe it was just that he was thrown off-guard by it. Either way, he wasn’t entirely sure how to go about this, so he slid a finger into Connor, who opened with his touch. “You will find that I do not need the same sort of preparation that you might need with a human partner. If we are going to get to the homicide scene quickly, it would be most effective for you to seek sexual gratification for yourself now.”

Hank wasn't going to argue with that. He was too out-of-practice to even really remember good foreplay in the first place. If it really didn't matter to Connor, Hank didn't see any reason not to use him like that, toss him around like the overly mechanical rag doll he basically was. “Well, fuck, then,” Hank said, lining himself up and pushing into Connor.

It was incredible how tight Connor felt, the way he bent to every move and will and mumble from Hank. “God, yeah,” he mumbled, mentally kicking himself for seeing the perk of having an android around. His fingers tightened around Connor's midsection, gripping him so tightly he would bruise if he were a person. But he wasn't, and Hank figured it was wise to remind himself of that fact. “Is this doing anything for you?” he asked gruffly.

“It is bringing me pleasure,” Connor told him, eyes half closed as his stray lock of hair fell into his eyes. He was getting warm under Hank’s hands and Hank wondered if this sort of thing could cause an android to overheat. As Hank pushed into him harder, rougher, grabbing his shoulder and driving himself deeper, it almost sounded like Connor was gasping but that seemed impossible. He wasn't  _ real. _ Not in the feeling, self-aware way people were. But damn, he was an effective substitute for the real deal.

“Lieutenant—” Connor started, the LED on his temple spinning, blue, then yellow. “—I feel …” His LED went red, and Connor stopped talking, eyes closing, tongue flicking out over his lower lip.

Hank watched all of this in the mirror, and the weird thing was how lifelike it could be, if he let himself forget about everything that had led up to it, let himself forget about the fact that the thing had lubed up it’s own ass for him automatically and everything. His hands moved for the best leverage, exploring Connor’s waist, his shoulder, his neck, his hair as he forced himself deeper. “What’d you say about us getting going soon?” Hank asked, trying to make himself feel better about the fact that it had been a while and this felt good and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to come pretty fast.

“I noted that if we were going to get to the homicide scene quickly—”

“Yeah, yeah, well, I don’t think you need to worry about it taking much longer,” Hank grunted, heaving a breath as he leaned against Connor more, forcing him forward until Connor’s arms were on the mirror to keep himself steady.

“Why is that, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, as Hank tensed and gripped him tighter. “Are you suggesting that you are close to reaching ejaculation? If there is something I can do to assist you with that process, it is my duty to make sure that I do whatever you need me to do for your optimal satisfaction.”

“How about ya shut up?” Hank asked, grasping Connor’s tie and lifting it to his mouth. “I’ll even help you,” he said, shoving it between Connor’s lips as he fucked him harder. A few thrusts later, though, he realized the advantage of having Connor suggest he would do anything. “You know what? On second thought let’s see how good you are with that robo-tongue,” Hank nodded, pulling out of him and grabbing his waist, forcing Connor around and pushing on his shoulder to get him to his knees. “Yeah, like that,” he said, tugging the tie from his lips and pushing himself in. He didn’t want to choke the damn thing, but Connor seemed to take it well, letting him push in deeper, and within a few thrusts it hit him that Connor wasn’t exactly working with a gag reflex there. His hands wrapped around the back of Connor’s head, using him for pleasure like he had suggested.

He paused for a moment, considering what to do. Part of him wanted to ask Connor where he should finish, but the other realized it was probably just as well with Connor that it happen anywhere. After all, he said he’d do whatever Hank needed for satisfaction. Besides, he didn’t have time to overthink it, because Connor flicked his tongue in a way that left Hank reeling, crumpling over him to grip the sink in front of him as he came.

“Fucking hell,” Hank said, taking a breath and trying to compose himself as Connor backed off and stood to his feet, adjusting his tie in the mirror and pulling up his CyberLife uniform.

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, dipping his head to meet Hank’s eyes as Hank struggled to right himself, still slumped over the sink slightly.

Hank gave him a small wave. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“I am glad to have been of assistance to you,” Connor said. “Perhaps we should proceed to the crime scene. As soon as you feel ready of course.” It hit Hank then that his dick was still out, and he tucked himself away, adjusting back into place.

“I’m ready. What’re you lookin’ at?”

“After analyzing the contents of your semen, I have come to the conclusion that you have a diet mostly comprised of red meat. Might I suggest eating more fruit in order to improve taste for future human partners?” Connor asked.

“Oh, so now you’re gonna be a smartass about my diet, too? Come on, you hunk of metal. We’ve got a case to solve.” Hank rolled his eyes and stalked to the door, raising his middle finger in the air toward Connor without even looking back to see if he was following. Knowing the way he’d been in the first twenty minutes of their interactions together, Hank didn’t have to look to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thanks to magicbubblepipe for encouraging me and beta reading this one, and for helping me make sure that Hank was a snarky asshole and Connor's circuits got absolutely dick blasted. His words, not mine.
> 
> Also this is my first time writing for this fandom so... *throws the fic and runs*


End file.
